


Fever's Awakening

by sarahenany



Category: Alarm für Cobra 11
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3117188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahenany/pseuds/sarahenany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiebertraume tag. (For instructions on how to WATCH Fiebertraume with English subtitles, PM me.) Tom and Semir being loving and naughty in a quarantine chamber,</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever's Awakening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maone/gifts).



"To get an apology from Mr. Gerkhan, you have to go into quarantine. Good to know."

Tom watched Semir laugh softly, feeling the knot in his chest start to unwind. It had been choking him all day, even after the rescue. Too much adrenalin, he supposed. He opened his mouth to say something else, when the lights faded. Hospital night. "Time for all good little patients to go to sleep," Semir grumbled, thumbing on the light-switch that was the only optional light source they had in the 'prison ward', as they'd christened it.

Tom had to grin again at that. "Since when are you a good little patient?"

"At least," Semir's tone was playful, "you can't be late for anything. You're stuck in here with me."

Tom opened his mouth to say something funny, or something nice, or something loving. Stuck in here. Stuck in quarantine. He swallowed, fighting down the memory of the stark terror he'd felt, knowing that not only was Semir a hostage, but that he was in danger of catching a deadly disease. Trying desperately to think of something positive, he suddenly conjured the image of the poor, abused Seat Panda, smoke billowing out of its burnt-out motor. "Oh my God," he said, bursting into helpless laughter, "she's going to sue the police department. We have to pay her for the engine."

Semir was up on one elbow now, with the half-smile that meant he was getting ready to hear a funny story. "Whose engine did you destroy while I was away? I leave you alone for five minutes…"

Chuckling now, Tom told him the story. "And then she said, 'This is a Panda, not a Porsche! It can't _go_ any faster!' And I told her to step on it anyway. And then, smoke started coming out of the engine…" He was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe.

"Shit," Semir was laughing too. "Do you know how many cylinders the Panda has? _Three!_ Three, count 'em three cylinders! And it's _air-cooled!_ And do you know how many horsepower it has?"

"I don't!"

"Forty-five! Count them, forty-five!" Tom was helpless with laughter as Semir continued. "You might as well have commandeered a Vespa. Shit, you're lucky it didn't blow up!"

"I think it almost did! I got out just in time."

And suddenly, just like that, Semir sobered. "I saw you."

Tom froze, realizing where this was going. "You are _not_ going to blame me for this." Semir looked into his eyes, and Tom could see the concern there, but it wasn't worth getting yelled at. He spoke quickly, hoping to cut Semir off. "Look, Semir, I was in control of the situation at all times."

Semir didn't yell, which was more unnerving, to be honest. He just looked at Tom for a long moment. Finally, he took a long breath. "Do you think," Semir said quietly, "you're the only one who's allowed to worry about their partner?"

Tom didn't quite bite his lip. He matched his partner's serious tone. "I understand what you mean, that I shouldn't take unnecessary risks. But Semir, this was an emergency. Even Anna risked her job. The situation was desperate."

Semir's eyes flashed. "Well, maybe I'm not worth it!"

Before he knew what he was doing, Tom was out of his bed, standing by Semir gripping both his hands. "Don't say that," he said urgently. "Don't ever say that."

Semir gave a sheepish smile and looked down, shaking his head. "Sorry, look, I just – When I saw you jumping from truck to truck like Superman…" Tom shifted his grip from Semir's wrists to his hands, their fingers interlacing warmly. "It was great, okay? Knowing you cared for me enough to, well, to do that."

Tom raised their interlocked hands to his lips, kissing Semir's knuckles softly. They were a little scraped from the day's adventures, and he frowned, but held his peace.

"But it scares me a bit. I don't want you to die."

Tom grinned again, feeling the old knot of terror melting away. "That's something we can both agree on," he murmured, stepping closer to Semir, and kissing him.

Semir shoved him away with a hand on his chest. "Are you crazy? Someone might see us!"

"Good point." Tom reached behind him, turning off his bedside light. It was close enough that he didn't even have to let go of Semir's other hand. "Get that light above your head, would you?"

Semir stretched his arm all the way up for it. It was just a few centimeters out of his reach. Tom grinned and reached over to turn the light off. "No wonder you were climbing trucks like they were stairs," Semir's amused mutter came up out of the semi-darkness. "I have a giraffe for a partner."

Tom slid into bed next to Semir, and took him in his arms. He drew breath to say a thousand things – _I can't lose you, I love you, you're the closest person to my heart, I'd risk anything, I'd die for you –_ but held in the breath and let it out, because they didn't say that kind of thing. Instead he just said, "This giraffe gets to take care of you," and kissed him again.

He could feel the remnants of his knot of fear – maybe Semir's, too – melting away as their lips touched. It wasn't the usual electric thrill he felt from the flesh of Semir's soft mouth, but something warmer, deeper, more comforting. _Here. Alive. Together._

They kissed, serious, reassuring, Tom pulling Semir in so tight it was as though he wanted to fuse them together, Semir cupping the back of Tom's head and pushing his fingers through his hair. His hands were warm. Skilled. Good at handling a gun, good at driving a car. Tom smiled into the kiss, feeling his breathing quicken, heat spilling down the front of his body. Semir pressed against him, and he grinned to feel the bulge. Always good to know he wasn't the only one with less-than-innocent motivations, Tom thought as he cupped a delicious double handful of his partner's ass.

Oh, _fuck fuck fuck—_ The thin hospital gowns were open in the back, and his palm, sliding across crackly starched fabric, suddenly slid across a strip of smooth skin, his fingers dipping into a cleft of yielding flesh. Tom gasped. The unexpected contrast sent a jolt clear through him, threatening to blow off the top of his head. Semir must have felt something, too, for he shuddered and arched against him.

Tom tried it again, and Semir _moaned._

Something exploded in his brain, and he slid his hand across again, exploring that delicious gap. There was something almost shocking in the gown so open at the back, and Tom's senses kicked into overdrive, his partner's familiar body seeming new territory to explore in this alien environment. The faint glow of the fluorescents in the corridor, the almost inaudible footfalls of the people going about their business outside the isolated ward – all were a counterpoint to the tiny strip of flesh, sensitive, intimate, and just partly exposed for his hand. He brushed his fingers over the gap again, slipping his fingertips not just across the cleft but into it. Semir responded, not by rutting back against his fingers, but by moving _forward,_ humping Tom so hard he pushed him backwards, half-off the narrow bed, grinding their erections together through the cotton fabric. Semir slid his hands behind Tom, sliding them into the gap to grip the bare skin of Tom's waist, pulling their bodies closer together and yanking him back onto the bed in the process. As Tom's questing fingers flipped the sides of the thin gown up, Semir opened his legs and wrapped them around Tom – _ohGodohGodohGod_ – digging his heels into Tom's thighs, burying his face into Tom's neck. Needing no further invitation, Tom reached back around his partner to gently cup and fondle Semir's balls from behind. He teased, light and playful, ghosting his touch over the sparse hair there, alternating the touch of his fingers with the touch of the fabric. And Semir's voice, God, his voice! It was such a head-rush to hear his partner shudder and moan. Semir was a delightful lover, but he never voiced his pleasure unless he was driven absolutely over the edge. And now, to hear him moaning… "I think," Tom gulped raggedly as Semir groaned and shuddered against him, clutching convulsively as he jolted and gasped with pleasure, all but ripping the thin gown off Tom, "I am developing a hospital gown fetish."

They didn't make it all the way to fucking, ending up coming in their (metaphorical) pants like teenagers. Semir was first: he clutched Tom in his arms as if afraid he would melt away, coming hot and hard through the hospital gown fabric. Then he slid downwards to take Tom in his mouth, interlacing his fingers with Tom's as he did, and Tom held fast to Semir's hands and wordlessly promised _Auf Leben und Tod,_ and came, holding on like a lifeline, biting off his shout, hoping the darkness would hide the wetness around his eyes.

Semir slid slowly up Tom's body, _underneath_ the hospital gown. Tom wondered how it had grown so big, until he realized the ties had long since given way, and his ass was, literally, hanging out. Or it would be if he ever got out of the bed. "I am _not_ getting out of this bed until they get me a bedpan," Tom muttered. He realized his voice was thick with emotion, and cleared his throat, embarrassed.

They pulled apart to look each other in the face. In the half-light of the corridor, Tom could see Semir's eyes alight with affection, and a shit-eating grin. "What?"

"I'm thinking." Semir was looking sleepy and sated and decadent and edible. "We can make as much mess as we like. They take our sheets and pillows and clothes and bleach them, and nobody can breathe the vapor from this room till the air is purified and decontaminated… They've basically made us a fucking chamber on the police department's time!"

Tom grinned, too. "You know, no offense, but I would prefer a nice vacation house on the lake."

Semir half-sat up, tapping Tom on the chest. _"With_ pay."

Tom suddenly saw again the disappearing car in the distance, felt the tug of panic as Anna told him they had given the order to shoot on sight… He was brought back to himself by Semir's gentle kiss on his chin, and blinked into concerned brown eyes. "Are you okay?" Semir asked.

Tom nodded, trying not to be too grave. "Don't get kidnapped next time."

"I was not kidnapped." Semir scoffed. "Being kidnapped is for children. I was taken hostage."

"Oh, like that's better? Being taken hostage is mainly for old ladies and teenage girls. That's—" Tom cut himself off. He fumbled around the awkward gown to grip Semir's chin. "Look, Semir…"

He fell silent – damn, he should have found some way to say this before he opened his fool mouth. He desperately searched for a way to say what he needed to, but Semir cut him off. "Tom, I get it. I'll be careful of my safety if you will be careful of yours. Is it a deal?"

Tom nodded, heart full with the thought that Semir actually understood his concern. "Agreed." They sealed it with a quick kiss. "Now what was it you were saying about a fucking chamber…?"


End file.
